A
sentinel at the foot of the tower stairs presented arms; another
paced the first landing; and a third was stationed before the door
of the extemporised prison.

'We guard this mud-bag like a jewel,' Otto sneered.

The Gamiani apartment was so called from an Italian doctor who had
imposed on the credulity of a former prince. The rooms were large,
airy, pleasant, and looked upon the garden; but the walls were of
great thickness (for the tower was old), and the windows were
heavily barred. The Prince, followed by the Chancellor, still
trotting to keep up with him, brushed swiftly through the little
library and the long saloon, and burst like a thunderbolt into the
bedroom at the farther end. Sir John was finishing his toilet; a
man of fifty, hard, uncompromising, able, with the eye and teeth of
physical courage. He was unmoved by the irruption, and bowed with a
sort of sneering ease.

'To what am I to attribute the honour of this visit?' he asked.

'You have eaten my bread,' replied Otto, 'you have taken my hand,
you have been received under my roof. When did I fail you in
courtesy? What have you asked that was not granted as to an
honoured guest? And here, sir,' tapping fiercely on the manuscript,
'here is your return.'

'Your Highness has read my papers?' said the Baronet. 'I am
honoured indeed. But the sketch is most imperfect. I shall now
have much to add. I can say that the Prince, whom I had accused of
idleness, is zealous in the department of police, taking upon
himself those duties that are most distasteful. I shall be able to
relate the burlesque incident of my arrest, and the singular
interview with which you honour me at present. For the rest, I have
already communicated with my Ambassador at Vienna; and unless you
propose to murder me, I shall be at liberty, whether you please or
not, within the week. For I hardly fancy the future empire of
Grunewald is yet ripe to go to war with England. I conceive I am a
little more than quits. I owe you no explanation; yours has been
the wrong. You, if you have studied my writing with intelligence,
owe me a large debt of gratitude. And to conclude, as I have not
yet finished my toilet, I imagine the courtesy of a turnkey to a
prisoner would induce you to withdraw.'

There was some paper on the table, and Otto, sitting down, wrote a
passport in the name of Sir John Crabtree.

'Affix the seal, Herr Cancellarius,' he said, in his most princely
manner, as he rose.

Greisengesang produced a red portfolio, and affixed the seal in the
unpoetic guise of an adhesive stamp; nor did his perturbed and
clumsy movements at all lessen the comedy of the performance. Sir
John looked on with a malign enjoyment; and Otto chafed, regretting,
when too late, the unnecessary royalty of his command and gesture.
But at length the Chancellor had finished his piece of
prestidigitation, and, without waiting for an order, had
countersigned the passport. Thus regularised, he returned it to
Otto with a bow.

'You will now,' said the Prince, 'order one of my own carriages to
be prepared; see it, with your own eyes, charged with Sir John's
effects, and have it waiting within the hour behind the Pheasant
House. Sir John departs this morning for Vienna.'

The Chancellor took his elaborate departure.

'Here, sir, is your passport,' said Otto, turning to the Baronet.
'I regret it from my heart that you have met inhospitable usage.'

'Well, there will be no English war,' returned Sir John.

'Nay, sir,' said Otto, 'you surely owe me your civility. Matters
are now changed, and we stand again upon the footing of two
gentlemen. It was not I who ordered your arrest; I returned late
last night from hunting; and as you cannot blame me for your
imprisonment, you may even thank me for your freedom.'

'And yet you read my papers,' said the traveller shrewdly.

'There, sir, I was wrong,' returned Otto; 'and for that I ask your
pardon. You can scarce refuse it, for your own dignity, to one who
is a plexus of weaknesses.